The Spy Game
by lysetletrille
Summary: Arthur wants to take over the world. However, his path to world domination is difficult when a rogue Russian spy is sent after him and a perverted Frenchman is doing everything in his power to annoy him. If only his intern wasn't such a useless git!
1. Chapter 1

Alfred was the quietest he had ever been as he walked slowly along the wall. He was holding a small pistol in his hand and was ready to shoot if necessary. The hallway was very silent except for his breathing that he couldn't control as much as he wanted to. He could feel his heart beat fast in his chest, fuelled with adrenaline. He might not get out of this one alive. Suddenly he heard some footsteps behind him and he jumped in surprise. He quickly turned around and was met with a giant Russian assassin who was suddenly running towards him, knife in hand.

"Die you filthy commie-bastard!" Screamed the American spy as he shot his pistol, aiming for the Russian's head. It was a perfect shot and blood and brain pieces exploded every where. It was disgusting which meant that Alfred couldn't stop laughing in glee.

"Lets kick some more Russian ass!" He exclaimed as he continued to walk towards the control room where there was a bomb waiting to be taken care of. This time, however, he ran since his last kill must have alerted someone. A pistol was a very noisy weapon. It was sad that he had lost his knife earlier in the game...

"Alfred! What the bloody hell do you think you are doing? Stop playing! We have some work to do!" Screamed a voice in the background.

The American was momentarily distracted and turned around, seeing his boss looking at him, his face red with anger. When he looked back at the screen he was disappointed to see that he was killed by one of those commies during the two seconds he wasn't looking.

"Ah, dude! You made me lose! Against Russians!" He complained in a whiny voice.

"Why don't you get your arse off the couch and do something useful! You are working for the Evil industries now and this means that when I order you to do something, you do it!" If it was possible, Arthur was screaming even louder than before. _I'm sure he could be in the "World Guinness" book just for his screaming_, usefully thought the American.

"Ah, I'm sorry man. What did I forget to do this time?"

"You forgot to bring me tea," said a still angry, but no longer screaming, Arthur.

"I'll be right on it sir! Earl Grey, no milk, no sugar, as usual?" Complied the young man, although he was a bit angry himself. He was a trainee, damn it! Not a lackey! He was supposed to learn how to be an agent of evil, not how to make tea. Who drinks tea anymore anyway?

"No. I'll have the English Breakfast today."

Now that Alfred was bringing him his cup of tea, Arthur was ready to start working on his new plan...the last one was a total failure, thanks to a certain Frenchman!

* * *

><p>"Kesesese! That was so awesome!" Exclaimed a man.<p>

"You really did outdone yourself, amigo." Added another.

"It was great, wasn't it?" Said Francis, rather proud of his accomplishment.

He and Arthur were long-time rivals. So ten years ago, when Arthur had founded the Evil industries, Francis had felt the need to create his own Company that would try to take over the world. Thus Machiavel Inc. was founded. With the help of his two best acolytes, Gilbert and Antonio.

More recently, Arthur had tried to get some top-secret documents from an American governmental base that specialized into electronics and new technology. He had prepared a flawless operation and sent his best agents to do the job. These agents were surprised however when instead of top-secret documents they found a fresh red rose. Francis had gotten to the documents first, which was a great coup of itself. However, it was nothing compared to what happened next.

Someone had alerted the base security that someone might try to steal those specific documents and they didn't lose their time in apprehending the criminals. The spies managed to escape, obviously, since they were professionals, but not before letting out who they were working for. Which meant that Francis had the documents that Arthur desperately wanted while Arthur took the blame for the thievery and became a target of the C.I.A. It also meant that Francis was acting even more like an arrogant prick than before.

The best part of this whole thing however was when Francis sent a postcard of his genitals to Arthur with a note.

_If you want to have your precious documents you will have to get a taste of this. _

_Hope to hear a response from you soon. Love, Francis. _

"We should celebrate by opening zis bottle of wine!" The Frenchman exclaimed while brandishing a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

"Papa?"

Francis turned around and met the inquiring stare of his son. He smiled gently and greeted his son with a kiss on a each cheeks and a bear-hug.

"Oh, _chéri_! How was your trip? I missed you so much!"

"It was fine. Um, papa? Why did you take out the Cabernet Sauvignon? I thought you were keeping it for a special occasion?"

Francis was slightly taken off guard. He didn't expect his son to be back from his trip already and, as genuinely happy as he was to see his son, he hadn't prepare a lie to explain this behaviour.

"Um, yes. You are right. Why don't _you_ explain, Gilbert?"

The Frenchman brushed off the glare that he was sent, happy with his fast thinking. Mathieu turned his stare towards the albino man, patiently waiting a response to his simple question.

"Well, you know your dad owns a..." What was it again? Oh yeah! "...modelling agency, right? Well, business has been really well lately and some magazine asked your father if he could participate in an interview for a special edition about handsome entrepreneurs in the fashion industry. Oh yeah, I'm good!"

Mathieu shrugged and chose to ignore this last statement. Francis and Antonio were both staring at their friend, not really surprised by his ability to invent lies but still amazed.

"What magazine?" Nonchalantly asked Mathieu while making himself a glass of wine.

"Enough about me, _mon coeur_. How was your trip? Did you like Switzerland?"

* * *

><p>"I got it! I finally know how I'm going to take over the world! Muhahahaha!"<p>

Arthur tried to bring his cup of tea to his lips but realize that he didn't have one.

"Alfred! Where is my cup of tea?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Hum, this story is harder to write than what I expected. I usually write angst or fantasy... I'm also struggling with writing Ivan and an evil Arthur...my two main characters. So sorry if they are a bit out of character. I promise I'll get the hang of it eventually though.**

**I hope you will nonetheless enjoy this new chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

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><p><em>End of the previous chapter:<em>

_"I got it! I finally know how I'm going to take over the world! Muhahahaha!"_

_Arthur tried to bring his cup of tea to his lips but realize that he didn't have one._

_"Alfred! Where is my cup of tea?"_

* * *

><p>"Braginski!" Called an excited voice.<p>

The Russian spy didn't bother looking up from his heavy making out cession with his newest employee. He wasn't particularly attracted to the delicate brunette in front of him but, in between two contracts and a lawsuit, the man hadn't had the time to squeeze in his weekly lay.

"I'm busy. You can talk to my secretary." Growled the man between two grunts of appreciation.

"I would if it weren't for the fact you were snogging her."

Ivan was a busy man. Which is to be expected of an internationally renown rogue spy (although Braginski liked to refer to himself as a mercenary). Everybody in the spying world had heard of his exploits; how he had defeated an army with a pipe as sole weapon, how he had dismantled a bomb with his teeth and how he liked to squish his enemies to death by sitting on them (thus, the lawsuit). He would have received a Nobel price for peace-keeping if it weren't for the fact that the man was a real sadist and was once found surrounded by corpses, laughing in glee and drinking some blood (well, that last part was only a rumour...as far as people know).

Sighing, the spy let go of his potential lover and dropped her on the ground. The brunette let out a shriek as she fell, but made no complaints. She didn't want to upset Ivan too much as he had a really bad temper.

"What do you want Toris?" There was a menacing edge to the Russian's tone as he glared at the man who had interrupted him. He didn't even glance at his new secretary as she left the room.

"I have a new case for you," replied an unperturbed man. He was rather use to his companion's PMS-attitude.

"No." Ivan's tone left no room for negotiations.

"But..."

"No," interrupted the Russian. "I am currently enjoying a well-deserve vacation. I do not owe anyone anything. I am not sorry."

"I understand. However, this is your chance to get back at the C.I.A!"

Toris interpreted his friend's silence as an invitation to continue. "On July the fourteenth, at approximately two-fifteen in the morning, two spies robbed important documents from a secret C.I.A. base in New-Jersey. Since then, the American agency has attempted to arrest a criminal mastermind, Arthur Kirkland, better known as the founder of the Evil industries."

The man suddenly grew very excited and, after catching his breath, resumed his explanation. "If you manage to arrest that man before the C.I.A, the (pussy) agency that has dared publicly criticize your "less than orthodox methods" and question your abilities, you could show them...how much better than them you are!"

It was now Toris' cue to be silent. Ivan was thinking and _no one_ interrupted a thinking Braginski unless they truly wanted to have their head smashed by a pipe. The Russian had a lot to think about. On one hand, he didn't have to prove himself. He already knew that he was better than the arrogant agency. On the other, he really hated those arrogant capitalists-pigs who thought they were better than anyone else.

"Give me more information," he finally said after a long silence. "And some vodka." Toris smiled in delight and avidly filled-in his friend on Kirkland's recent activities while taking out a vodka bottle out of his jacket (he had come prepared).

* * *

><p>Alfred couldn't stop laughing. He couldn't help himself. In his defence, Arthur's new plan consisted of dressing up in a weird dress and asking his fairy friends to stop spreading happiness in the world.<p>

"Dude, I knew you were crazy but this is too much!" The American resumed his obnoxious laughing and tried to keep a serious face when he met the furious glare of a red-face Englishman. "I mean, it sounds like you took this idea straight from a Disney movie!"

Arthur was sputtering and struggling to keep his countenance. He wouldn't lose face in front of his intern...it was only an intern after all. "Do you have a better idea in mind?" He replied dryly.

"How about we open a new fast-food place, one that is even better than McDonalds! Then we could make people addicted to our fabulous hamburgers and force them to comply to our will in exchange of the best hamburgers ever!"

Arthur could only stare at the American who seemed to be very pleased with himself. The mastermind then proceed to hit the git in the head.

"Only you would be willing to enslave yourself in exchange of a hamburger," he sighed.

"Hum, and it wouldn't work anyway. Your cooking sucks," seriously added the young man.

Once again, the Brit was sputtering in anger and trying not to slaughter his idiotic intern.

"Go to your room!"

Alfred stared at his boss in amusement. "What?"

"Go to your room...NOW!"

"Okay..._mom_!" the American then left the room, laughing like a maniac and running away from a murderous Arthur.

"Maybe Alfred was right," sighed the Englishman. "My plan is a bit...simple. "I need something grand! Something that people won't ever forget!"

"May I suggest something, sir?"

Arthur jumped in surprise and quickly turned around to face his new speaker. He was met by the joyful face of his advisor...whom he had forgotten about.

"Yao? Hum, yes. Go ahead."

"The Evil industries will never be able to take over the world alone. Such a task demands a fully develop network which involves as many branches of society as possible. You will need some insiders in the government, for one...and maybe in the military and in the media. You will also need access to monetary funds, to advance weaponry...and..." Yao stopped talking once he caught the other man's look.

"So, you are saying that I am in need of...allies?" Arthur sounded wary of the word.

Arthur Kirkland didn't trust anybody. Not even himself at times. He couldn't trust anybody to do the job right. This was part of the reason the man wanted to dominate the world in the first place. That and his mother never loved him, which might or might not have been the cause of serious emotional damage.

"Maybe allies is too strong a word...but yes," carefully agreed the Chinese man.

Both men were silent for a while as Arthur reflected upon his advisor's words. It made sense. Even the most accomplished of King would need the help of others to maintain an Empire. However, he would have to pick his _allies_ very carefully.

"Did you have anybody in mind?" He finally asked Yao.

"My younger brother is starting to get quite influent in the technology business. He could easily provide us with the latest gadgets and weaponry...once I talk him into it. I also took the liberty of starting some conversations with the local Mafia. They are wiling to start negotiating a partnership with us." The advisor brighten his smile.

No matter the seriousness of what they were discussing, Yao was always smiling. It was like the man was always happy! This annoyed Arthur to no end (as he was rarely in a good mood). He only kept Yao because he appreciated the other's brilliance and competency.

"Good work Yao. See if you can persuade your brother to work on our side. I have heard of his exploits and do not question your judgement on the matter. However, I will need more information about this local Mafia you mentioned."

"Of course. Well, it is led by two Italian twins..."

* * *

><p><em>On a faraway plane...<em>

"You better watch out, Kirkland. You will soon find yourself suffocating under the wrath of my posterior."

No one dared look at the Russian man as he started laughing evilly in the middle of the plane.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the third chapter. Nothing big going on but I'm still introducing some characters. Don't worry, I won't have too many characters in the story.**

**I'm sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. English is clearly not my first language and I suck at typing (I always end up with the most stupid typos). Thank you for reading!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Ivan's airplane had landed at the London International Airport an hour ago at about nine thirty at night. Which means that, by now, the spy could have been having a lovely evening in the four-star hotel, enjoying some vodka in a giant hot tub filled with deliciously sexy women (or men). Instead, he had to be held hostage by the customs officer about some <em>questionable <em>articles Ivan had in his suitcase.

"I sincerely do not know how this..._thing _could have gotten into my suitcase, sir," innocently said the Russian man. And he did look innocent. His beautiful purple eyes were opened wide, almost taking a childish appearance, and his lips had taken the form of a humble smile.

"You do not need to justify yourself mister Braginski. It is not the first time that we have found a vibrator in someone's suitcase." It was obvious that the customs officer was trying hard not to smile too much. "It must have been turned on during the flight; our detectors probably detected the movement and mistook it for a bomb."

The Russian sighed. It was the third time that the situation was explained to him. All he wanted right now was to know where his luggage was and get to the closest bar. Sadly, the hotel hot tub would already be closed by the time Ivan managed to get out of the damned place.

"Where can I get my luggage?" He calmly (or as calmly as he could) inquired.

"Well, about that...I'm sorry to say that, since the airports' detectors reported a bomb in your luggage, you won't be able to get your..." The employee froze in place as he felt the dark aura that was slowly crushing his soul. He turned around and stared at the Russian who still looked as innocent as ever.

"Where did you say my luggage was?" Gently inquired Ivan.

The officer gulped loudly and looked around him nervously.

"Th...this way, sir." He then guided the scary man towards the customs office that was at the other side of the airport. He couldn't get there fast enough, he thought as the scary man beside him starting laughing.

"Kolkolkolkolkolkolkol..."

* * *

><p>Back in Russia, a small girl was impatiently waiting beside the phone. Her whole body was tensed and she was frowning. She almost seemed frozen into place, like the painting of a girl anxiously waiting for her lover to call.<p>

"Big brother should have arrived at the hotel and opened his luggage by now..." she said, reflectively. "Maybe he hasn't found my _special gift _yet."

The thought was very disappointing. The girl had spent many hours shopping for the perfect instrument, wrapping it and writing a nice little love note in which she demanded that he marry her.

"Well, no worries." She brushed off her disappointment and smiled softly. "We will get married soon anyway and then, he won't need those toys to keep him occupied."

The girl then started to smile, a crazed look in her eyes.

* * *

><p>Mathieu was calmly sitting in his Queen-size bed, appearing indifferent to the world around him as he tried to lit a cigarette. Let me reassure you, the young boy didn't smoke. Gilbert, however did.<p>

"Want one?" offered the blond boy to the naked man sitting beside him.

The Albino stared at the younger man in disbelief. How could Mathieu so innocently offer him one of his own cigarettes after...well, what they just did? He self-consciously pulled the covers over his (gorgeous) body and quietly accepted a lit cigarette. He needed a smoke to calm down his nerves.

How could he ever explain this to Francis? The man would kill him! Then, he would accuse him of rape and cut his genitals off before killing him again!

Maybe Gilbert could run away and take on a new identity? No, it wouldn't work. The Frenchman had too many connexions...

Gilbert was taken away from his thoughts by a pair of arms that placed themselves around his waist. He looked down to see the little minx that was the cause of all his problems smiling at him. Once again, he felt his heart beating faster at the adorable sight. The man always did have a soft spot for cute things...and for cute best friend's sons. For the hundredth time that night, the Albino cursed his weakness.

"Are you nervous, Gilly?"

Gilbert cringed slightly at the unawesome nickname. He chose not to answer and delicately pushed back a string of Mathieu's hair behind the boy's ear while tightening his grip on his cigarette.

"I think it's cute that you are nervous." Mathieu sounded very amused by the whole situation. "But don't worry. I won't tell _papa _anything." The boy had whispered the last words.

The older man sighed in relief and was about to thank the boy when Mathieu said something that stopped him cold.

"Under one condition." The boy's eyes were shinning mischievously and he grinned slightly as he continued. "That you tell me what_ papa_ has really been doing while I was away."

Then, the boy looked up at the albino and battered his eyelashes innocently, a malicious glint in his irresistible amethyst eyes.

_I'm doomed, _realized Gilbert.


	4. Chapter 4

**So, hum, sorry for not updating sooner. I didn't know where this story was headed and had to think about it a little before continuing. I'm also very lazy.**

**I hope you'll still enjoy this chapter. Consider this my Thanksgiving gift to you.**

**I still don't own anything.**

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><p>Not for the first time, Alfred questioned his life changing decision of becoming evil. He didn't use to be evil you know. In fact, his childhood dream was to become a hero.<p>

At four years old he had started running around the neighbourhood, looking for people to save. It was endearing at first. Not as much ten years later when the police brought the boy home charged with trespassing and indecent exposure (only because that bully managed to give him a wedgy though).

The next year, Alfred met the guidance counsellor for the first time. He had some serious questions about a hero school he could attend. The man didn't reply and handed him some pamphlets about "children with special needs".

His sixteenth birthday had been a complete revelation. He needed to get laid. Badly. Masturbating five times a day couldn't be normal or heroic in any way. Sadly, girls only date cool guys and wearing a cape was considered a dorky, loser, thing to do. So Alfred came to a life-changing conclusion: only evil dudes get chicks.

He begged his mom to contact uncle Arthur and to get him an internship at the Evil industries. She accepted, but only because she was relieved that her seventeen-year-old son stopped wearing his flamboyant red cape to school.

And here he was, three years later, serving tea to his boss at a mafia meeting. It was humiliating! The only thing he _ever_ did was prepare and serve tea nowadays. He could do so much more! If only Arthur saw his potential… But that wasn't the only issue. Not only was he serving tea as if he was a lowly servant but the leader of the mafia kept calling him a bastard.

The leader wasn't even intimidating looking! He was a scrawny fifteen year old currently sitting on a marble throne at the centre of the room. He had this nasty habit of swearing and complaining about anything and every one (but mostly his _fratello_). Oh, and his Italian accent was so strong that Alfred easily imagined him starring in an East Side Mario's commercial. Even his name was unintimidating, _Lovino_ Vargas.

At the thought, he started giggling loudly. Arthur shot him an unimpressed look.

"Shut up you git! This is a very important meeting, I won't let you mess this up!" Harshly whispered the Englishman.

"Why do you always say that I'm going to mess things up? Don't you trust me?" Replied the annoyed intern.

"Do you wish for an honest answer Alfred? No, I do not trust you. You always make a mess of things! Now go make some more tea and shut the bloody hell up or you're fired!"

Arthur hadn't realized he had started screaming until he felt the heavy silence of the room. He felt the need to ask forgiveness for his outburst when he saw a glimmer in his intern's eyes that he hadn't seen before. Alfred had never looked so serious in his life as he quietly left the room. Arthur felt something tightened in his throat but he didn't know what it was. He looked back at the other occupants of the room and cleared his throat.

"Can we get back to business now?" Impatiently asked the Italian teen.

"Uh? Oh, of course!" Somehow, Alfred's unnaturally sullen face wouldn't leave Arthur's thoughts.

"As I was saying, my brother isn't really fit for our lifestyle. He would rather spend his days making pasta and painting than lead and shoot people, and I have some…unfinished business to take care of in Spain." Lovino then hesitated before pursuing. "I'm ready to give you access to all our resources and effectives…"

Arthur had to bite his tongue to prevent him from fainting in excitement, all thoughts of the previous incident erased.

"…if you are willing to help us with a master plan of our own; one that involves pennies. Lots of pennies. "

* * *

><p>"I think <em>mon cher<em> Arthur is up to something," said an unusually serious Francis.

It was no secret that Francis had only created Machiavel Inc. to piss off Arthur. The Frenchman clearly had too much time on his hands and had an unhealthy obsession with making the people around him miserable (either by screwing them over or by screwing them). This meant that he rarely took business seriously.

What he did take seriously however was the prospect of having some intense hate-sex with his rival.

"He hasn't bothered showing up to the last evil conference..." He let out a disappointed sigh. How was he supposed to antagonize his rival if they weren't in the same room?

"Do you think we should be worried?" Asked Antonio. "We all know that Arthur _never_ skips a meeting."

Francis was deep in thought. This unusual behaviour could only mean one thing; the little Englishman had found something more exciting than these silly little meetings to occupy his time. Something like...

"A new master plan!" The Frenchman almost wanted to laugh in glee (but didn't because it wouldn't be very attractive to do so). "_Mon chéri_ is busying himself with a project. A project that we, my friends, have to mess with."

"Gilbert, you are awfully quiet today." Pointed out Antonio.

"It wasn't my fault! I swear!" automatically screamed the Albino.

"What are you talking about _mon ami_?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing important." Denied an obviously nervous Gilbert who decided to quickly change the subject. "So yeah, you were talking about Arthur?"

Francis eyed his friend suspiciously but didn't push the matter. He would rather talk about Arthur than talk about whatever drama was in his friend's life at the moment.

"He's clearly up to something. Did you hear anything interesting about his whereabouts?"

"Well, I received a report yesterday from our effectives in London. You'll be excited to learn that he has spent two nights in a row at a local strip club this week. Isn't it unusual behaviour for a man who calls himself a gentleman?"

"_Honhonhon. _Believe me Gilbert, this man is not so gentle in the bedroom."

"I didn't need to know that Franny! How unawesome!" For the first time this evening, the Prussian sounded like his usual obnoxious self.

Antonio could only agree with his friend. They both already knew too much about their friend's "sexcapades".

"_Papa_?"

All three men jumped in surprise at the sudden apparition of Francis' son. They hadn't heard him enter the room.

"What's wrong, _chéri_?"

"I…I can't sleep. Maybe Gilbert could read me a bedtime story?" Mathieu lowered his eyelashes modestly and tightened his grip around Kumajiro, his polar bear pet.

Gilbert tensed up at the mention of his name. He was ridiculously afraid that Francis could sense that his son wasn't a virgin anymore and would be able to put two and two together.

Instead, the Frenchman laughed softly and gently played with Mathieu's hair.

"Well of course! Gilbert will be very happy to read you a story Mathieu. Now, go to bed. You need to get some rest…. We are going to London tomorrow!"


	5. Chapter 5

**As promised, a new chapter! If you have any questions or even suggestions at this point don't hesitate to ask me. I'll stop talking now.**

** Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the pennies.**

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><p>Ivan was finally enjoying the peace and quiet of his hotel room, mojito in one hand and <em>The Torturing Tools And Practices Encyclopaedia, volume 2, 12<em>_th__ edition_ in the other. After discovering his sister's note in his luggage, he had had nightmares whenever he fell asleep. It took him two long days and eight bottles of vodka to pull himself together and remember that he was in London for a specific reason.

He had to find this Arthur Kirkland character, find out what he was up to and kill..hum, arrest him. Then, he could tell the CIA to suck his ass (figuratively of course, Ivan wasn't much of a ass sucking kind of person) and go cry to their stupid capitalists mothers.

He only needed a clue to get him started… At the thought, the rogue Russian spy felt an unfamiliar vibration in his pocket. He jumped in surprise. It took him a bit too long to realize that his cellphone was the cause of the vibration and not a doomed vibrator sent to him by a crazy sister. Someone (hopefully not said sister) was calling.

"привет?" He answered.

"Ivan? Hum, it's Toris. You…you might want to turn the British news on."

The Russian didn't answer. He quietly did as he was advised and quickly flipped through the channels till he found what he needed. Without bothering to say anything, he hung up and stoically listened to the newest report.

"…causing a feeling of uneasiness and confusion among the population. Let's hear the testimony of one of the victims, Jessica Parker.

'It started like any other day,' started Jessica, a university student who seemed on the verge of crying. 'I stopped at the coffee shop beside my apartment like I usually do on mornings. When I was asked to pay, I reached into my wallet to give the exact change. Except, I couldn't find any pennies! I was so embarrassed!' The girl stopped talking for a second, obviously overwhelmed. Her expression then became solemn. 'I have _never_ felt so distressed in my life! It's almost as if I was _violated_! The one responsible for this is a sick bastard.'

"Everyone seems to agree that the individual or individuals behind the penny thievery epidemic need to be stopped at all cost. Rumours have been circulating that catching the thief is the local police priority…"

Ivan then closed the television, having heard enough. He knew that only one man could be responsible of such chaos. It was the very same man the spy was looking for. _How convenient_, he thought. He chuckled a little and his dark purple eyes took a malicious glint. Serious shit was about to happen.

The Russian put his coat on and was about to go outside, ready to beat the shit out of the little bastard, when he put his hand into his coat pocket and froze. Something important was missing… Where were his pennies?

* * *

><p>Lovino Vargas couldn't stop laughing in glee as he saw the huge piles of pennies before him. He was currently visiting the Evil industries to see how things were progressing. Lets say he was very pleased by what he was seeing.<p>

The Italian man had offered to give Arthur control over the mafia's resources (both human and materiel) in exchange of a little favour. The demand had of course been outrageous, borderline insane. He had asked the mastermind to get as many pennies as possible and to melt them.

Why he wanted the pennies to be melted was still a mystery. Lovino absolutely refused to reveal the rest of his plan before an official deal had been made. He had been suspiciously red-faced as he was questioned over and over again about his intentions. "Why do you even care you bastard?" he had finally screamed after being probed for answers by Arthur. "It is none of your fucking business and if you want our partnership to work you have to leave me the fuck alone!"

After that, Arthur had kept his distance. He sent all his men across London and asked them to steal all the pennies of the city. He didn't think that they would need such a big amount but it was an absolutely evil thing to do! Every one would freak out at the disappearance of their pennies.

Also…maybe the pennies would be more appreciated that way. Or so, Arthur secretly thought. People were always complaining about pennies, how they were useless and took a lot of space. They didn't realize that pennies, no matter how little they were worth, were just as useful as the other coins. How else would you be able to give the right change when buying items?

Arthur suddenly thought about his mother. He quickly pushed the thought away and turned his attention to the still laughing Italian boy (he clearly needed to get laid soon).

"As you can see, the plan is going extremely well. However, we will soon need to know what you intend to do with all these melted pennies."

"Yes. Well, I was actually hoping to talk to you in private about this matter," quickly interrupted the mafia leader while throwing annoyed looks around the room. "I don't really trust your employees with this information."

Arthur nodded in understanding. When you were the leader of an evil organization, you couldn't trust anyone. Not even your mother…especially not your mother.

"Come with me," he said, gesturing the Italian man to follow him. "I'll lead you to my office." Which was, of course, at the top of the building.

After a long and awkward elevator ride (awkward for Lovino because the Englishman had started talking to invisible creatures), Arthur finally turned the knob of his office. The Italian boy was getting impatient and couldn't wait anymore to reveal his top-secret plan that he hadn't shared with anyone yet. Not even his brother.

He opened his mouth, ready to share his secret but froze in shock at what he saw, his cheeks rapidly reddening. Arthur was in a similar state of surprise although he had already started screaming somewhere at the back if his mind.

"Oh…_oh! _Alfred! I…" Moaned one of the two young males who were heavily making-out on the desk.

Arthur quickly recognized one of the men as his intern who had disappeared two days prior. Alfred who was last seen sulking in the halls of the Mafia's meeting office was now bend-over a mysterious blond man with curly hair. He had his hands on the blonde's hips and was sloppily sucking a nipple. The stranger was trying to suppress moans and sighs of pleasure and gently caressed Alfred's tone body.

For a couple seconds, Arthur and Lovino watched as the two men kissed and caressed each other.

"What the fuck is this?" screamed the Italian man. Arthur would have done the same if it wasn't for the fact that he was trying to suppress a growing erection.

The two lovers froze at the interruption, slightly embarrassed at getting caught. The mysterious blond male then raised his head, looked at both fully clothed men straight in the eyes and said:

"Could you please give us five more minutes?"

Still shocked, Arthur nodded. He closed the office door but not before noticing that the stranger's eyes were a nice amethyst colour. He suddenly felt like he should remember something, something important. Unfortunately, he couldn't recall anything related to a boy with purple eyes.

_It's probably nothing_, he thought despite his growing feeling of uneasiness.


	6. Chapter 6

**A.N. Uh, sorry for the long absence. I was busy with school. But it's done for now, so I'll try to update more often! Anyway, here's the new chapter! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I sadly don't own Hetalia. **

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><p>"Yes. Thank you for your cooperation. You will be rewarded."<p>

Yao was abnormally happy as he hung up the phone. Everything was going according to plan! Things hadn't always been good for Yao. His parents had abandoned him in a street corner, leaving him to fend for himself. Life in the streets was tough for a 23 year old who had only known a peaceful life at his parent's house with his brothers.

He had survived however. He had gotten a job at a local Vietnamese restaurant (luckily for him, the only requirement was to be Asian), learned how to spit in the rude clients food without being caught (his manager was the one to teach him) and how to charm his way into receiving big tips (a big smile and a few compliments usually did the trick). Yao Wang had always been a fast learner and had a way with people.

He eventually had enough money to get hooked on drugs. And that's when his life took a turn for the best. You see, his dealer was only a teenager at the time, a sixteen year old with big dreams of taking over the world. Eventually though, the teen grew into a young adult with the means to make his dream a reality, thus creating one of the biggest criminal enterprise in the city. Yes, the dealer had been the one and only Arthur Kirkland.

Arthur Kirkland was very good at sensing other people's abilities and after a few months of observing the Chinese man charm his way out of debts or into better deals, he knew that he was dealing with a smart cookie. He was further convinced when a magical fortune cookie revealed his destiny as the future ruler of the world if he seeked the advice of a Chinese fool. Or something like it.

So, once the Evil industries had been created, Yao Wang, former Vietnamese restaurant employee and pothead, had been promoted to the position of evil secretary. He was now the one and only adviser of an internationally known enterprise. His parents could suck on it.

"Yao-san?"

Yao stopped reminiscing about his life and faced his brother. If he was surprised by his brother's presence, he didn't show it. He simply greeted his brother with a big smile and got up from his chair.

"Kiku! How nice to see you! You have gotten so tall! How long has it been since I last saw you?"

"Twenty four years, Yao-san."

"Well, you haven't changed! And just call me Yao, Kiku," protested Yao. "No need to be so formal. We are brothers after all."

His brother remained silent. Yao's eye almost twitched, although he kept smiling. He kept forgetting how aggravating his brother was. Even at the age of six, Kiku had been annoyingly impassive.

"Well, no matter. Let's just go straight to the point. There will be time for brother-bonding later." Yao sighed at the lack of response from his little brother. "I have a project for you, a…challenge if you will."

Yao had picked his words carefully. He knew his brother might not want to get involved into criminal activities at such a turning point of his career. He also knew that Kiku, despite his reserved nature, was a bored genius who couldn't refuse a challenge.

For the first time that afternoon, Kiku Honda let his eyes twinkle in interest. He silently encouraged his brother to explain. Yao's smile broadened.

"Well, it has something to do with a French company that has been very naughty lately. Have you ever heard of Machiavel Inc?"

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><p>"It is such a disappointment that Toni couldn't come," sighed Francis for the fifth time in an hour.<p>

"You heard what he said, Franny! He had special business to attend to, besides, you know how he feels about England," repeated Gilbert, not bothering to look up from his city map.

"I know, but without him, we cannot be the Bad Touch Trio. We've never been separated during a mission before…it can only bring us bad luck!" Francis had always enjoyed being overdramatic.

"What are you talking about? The awesome is here! And it is all that matters!" Determined to prove his worth, he pointed out a random street. "Okay, let's try to go that way this time." He couldn't make sense of the map anyway, so he might as well just guess their way back to the hotel.

"Are you sure we haven't walked by that street before?"

Francis' feet were starting to hurt from all the walking around. Why did spying require so much physical effort? Maybe they should've just called a taxi. It would've been the more glamorous thing to do.

"Huh…Maybe?"

"I hope Mathieu is not too worried, back at the hotel." The Frenchman's heart clenched at the thought of his child left alone in their suite, probably feeling left out.

"I'm sure he's fine," carefully answered the albino. The simple mention of his best friend's son made him sweat in fear. Francis could never know what he and his precious _bébé_ had done together. Never.

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><p>Arthur and Lovino were finally installed in an appropriate office that hadn't been tainted by two horny teenagers. They were ready to talk business once again.<p>

"So, why do you need this many melted pennies?" Abruptly asked Arthur. He wasn't one to dance around the important questions.

Lovino blushed, becoming as red as a tomato. "It's a…personal matter. Can we just, sign the contract or something? You, bastard." He had added the last part as an afterthought; he didn't want the older man to think him weak or something.

"No. You are using my facility and my men to melt those pennies. So you must tell me. Are you preparing a weapon of mass destruction?" Arthur had a serious look in his eyes. He would not let this one go.

Lovino fell back in his chair and sighed. He tried to appear as uninterested as he could be as he uttered his next words. "Well, if you must know, I am planning to make myself a Roman armour out of those melted pennies. Then, I will bring my armour with me to Spain where I have some unfinished business to attend. My brother will accompany me, of course."

Arthur didn't seem surprised by the admission. He simply took out the contract out of his briefcase. "In that case, we are ready to sign the contract. Do you accept to lend me your control of the city's Italian mafia and all of its resources? You will of course remain the owner of the Mafioso business and will obtain 55% of all the profits."

"This somehow feels like retirement," simply replied the Italian as he looked over the document. Since everything seemed to be in order, he signed the paper. Arthur sighed in relief.

"It was great doing business with you," he said.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I'm out of here. Call me when the armour is ready."

And Lovino Vargas left the office, thinking about the glorious time that awaited him in Spain once he got hold of that idiotic Spaniard.


End file.
